Justin's Secret
by violette7
Summary: Emmett saw Justin with Ethan, not Mikey. They have a chat.
1. Exposed

Emmett walked into the diner like a man on a mission. And of course, he was. As soon as he'd located his target, he made a beeline for him and pulled him into a booth.

"Baby, what the sam hell are you doing?"

"Uh…waiting tables."

"No, I mean with that grungy guy I saw you kissing!"

Justin's eyes widened. "When did you…?"

"Today, when you were putting up posters. Anyone could have seen you. You're damn lucky that it was me. Can you imagine if Michael had seen you? He'd've gone straight to Brian."

"Fuck."

"Fuck is right."

Justin paled. "Are you going to tell Brian?"

"No."

Justin breathed a sigh of relief.

"But I think you should tell me what's going on."

Justin took a deep breath. "Do you remember when Lindsay and Mel took me to the classical music concert for my birthday?"

"Yeah."

"I met him there. He plays the violin."

"Well, I can't blame you too much. Musicians are hot. Plus, being a fellow artist of sorts, he can probably relate to you in ways that Brian can't."

"Well, yeah, I guess. But it's more than that. He's romantic. He actually believes in love."

"Does he love you?"

Justin smiled shyly and nodded. "He says he does."

"Do you love him?"

Justin shook his head. "I don't know. He'll do things that Brian refuses to do. Like have picnics on the floor and give me flowers."

Emmett stared at Justin, a strange look in his eyes.

Justin frowned. "What?"

"Is the fact that he'll do what Brian won't what you find most attractive about him?"

"Well, they are very different people."

"How?"

"Well…he plays music on the street for money. He doesn't care about living in luxury. He'd rather live by his principles."

"So…he doesn't want to be famous?"

"Well, he's not desperate to get there. Fame isn't all that matters to him."

"But money and career advancement are all that Brian cares about?"

Justin chuckled. "Well, yeah."

Emmett just stared at Justin. "Hmmm."

"What?"

"Since you met Brian, have you ever been without anything?"

"What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, has he ever denied you anything? He pays for your school, and he bought you that fancy computer so that you could keep being an artist. Right?"

"Well, yeah."

"So…he's generous?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"You guess? If Deb or Michael or Lindsay or Gus or you ever needed anything, wouldn't he make sure you all had whatever it was, no matter what the cost?"

Justin laughed. "Of course. But he has a lot of money."

"So…what? You think that if he had less he'd be less generous?"

"Yes."

"Don't get me wrong. Brian can be an asshole, but…did it ever occur to you that he might work so hard so that he has enough money to be generous? That his evil career ambition might be motivated, in part, by a desire to be able to give the people he cares about whatever they need?"

Justin's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth, but he didn't answer right away. Finally, he managed, "I…"

"Have you noticed that Deb, Michael, and Lindsay tend to look to him for solutions and help when things go wrong?"

"Yeah."

"That must be tough. He must feel a great deal of pressure."

Justin scrunched up his forehead. He grimaced as he pondered this possibility.

"Just because Brian makes it look easy doesn't mean that it is. He'd probably rather die than let anyone see him as being weak."

Justin nodded and, in a small voice, agreed, "Yeah."

"Look, I don't know what brand of craziness has come over me. I should be telling you to run into this grungy musician's arms. And as fast as you can. But…"

"But what?"

"Well…when you were in Vermont, he came to Babylon looking for you."

"So?"

"He seemed so excited and eager to find you…he said he had news, but he only wanted to tell you."

Justin flushed. He breathed, "Really?"

Emmett nodded. "In retrospect, I think he probably wanted to tell you that he'd made partner…and…I mean, if going to Chicago and canceling your trip to Vermont was what he had to do to make partner, and making partner was important to keeping that money train rolling…you know, so that he could take care of the people he cares about…doesn't Brian live by principles, too?"

Emmett laughed. "Or principle anyway…"

Justin looked like he was going to be sick. "Oh God. I…I have to go."

He quickly stood up and untied his apron. "Will you tell Debbie…I don't know…tell her something…"

Emmett smiled. "Sure Baby."

Then Justin hurried out the door.


	2. Waking Nightmare

Justin had spent the last couple of hours at the park. Sitting on a bench and staring into space. After two hours, he still wasn't sure how to take what Emmet had said. He needed to see Brian, so he was walking back to the loft. He was halfway there when his cell phone rang. Distracted, he answered without even looking at the caller id.

"Hello."

"Justin, where are you?"

Justin sighed heavily. It was Ethan.

"You were supposed to meet me an hour ago!"

"Look, something came up. I can't see you tonight."

Ethan snarled, "You're canceling on me to spend time with HIM, aren't you?"

Justin closed his eyes for a moment. A jealous lover was the last thing he needed. "I…I have to work an extra shift at the diner."

Ethan frowned. He was standing outside the diner peering in. He'd stood there for thirty minutes before calling Justin, hoping to catch sight of the blond.

Justin sighed again as Brian's building came into view. "Look, I have to go. Customers are waiting. I'll talk to you later."

Ethan's eyes lost focus. "Sure, Justin."

*******

Justin had been at the loft for what seemed like hours, though he knew only a half hour had passed. He was pacing. Folding and unfolding his hands, a nervous habit he'd picked up from his mother. Looking around the place he'd called home for nearly a year just caused more confusion. So many memories, good and bad, haunted this space, assaulting him, overwhelming him with conflicting feelings. Even the happy memories hurt. In fact, they hurt the most. He didn't know what to do or what to think. His sad reverie was interrupted by the shrill ringing of Brian's landline. Hesitantly, Justin picked it up.

"Hello."

"Hi, Justin! It's Cynthia. Is Brian home yet?"

Justin shook his head. "No."

"Hmm…Okay."

"Can I pass on a message for you?"

"Mmm…that's okay. But thanks."

"Cynthia…"

"Yes?"

Justin wasn't sure what he wanted to ask.

"When Brian went to Chicago a couple months ago…"

Cynthia muttered, more to herself than to Justin, "That was a nasty business…not only taking the partnership off the table…

Justin swallowed hard.

"…but threatening to fire him if he didn't come across with something spectacular…"

Justin felt a cold weight in his chest. It was suddenly so hard to breathe.

Cynthia brightened. "But of course, Brian carried it off, as always."

Thanks to the years of practice at country club functions, Justin managed to reply cheerily, "Yeah…Brian's amazing…Uh…so should I tell him you called?"

"Nah…it's okay. Talk to you later, Justin."

Justin could barely speak, but managed to say, "Bye."

He pushed the off button and tried to set the phone back onto the cradle, but his hand slipped, and the phone went crashing to the floor. But Justin didn't hear it. He couldn't hear anything except the dull throbbing of his heart. He staggered to the bed and allowed himself to fall. Then he started to cry and shake, deep sobs racking his body.

What had he done?


	3. A Jumble of Emotions

"What's wrong?" Brian asked.

Justin's head shot up. He hadn't even heard Brian come in. Still facing away from Brian, he wiped away his tears quickly and then turned. He smiled and shook his head. "Nothing."

Brian was unconvinced. He pressed, "Did you see your father again today?"

Justin scoffed. "No. I'm done trying to make him understand me."

"Then what, Sunshine?"

Justin stared at Brian, who was now sitting next to him on the bed. Brian's rare displays of sensitivity always hit Justin hard, making his heart swell with so much love that it almost hurt. This time, the experience caused more tears to spring to his eyes and his chest to ache painfully.

He squeaked out, "It's just allergies."

Observing Brian's unblinking eyes and half-smile, Justin couldn't help but laugh. Brian shook his head and grinned, "You should really see a doctor. You seem to be allergic to a great many things."

Justin nodded and replied absently, "Sure." But he was staring at Brian intently. His breathing ragged, his heart pounding hard and fast in his chest, Justin rasped, "Fuck me. Please."

Something was clearly bothering Justin. But if he didn't want to discuss it, Brian wouldn't push him further. Truth be told, talking about feelings was Brian's least favorite activity. Fucking, on the other hand, was his favorite. Particularly, fucking Justin. Though, of course, he had no intention of ever telling Justin that.

Justin's plea cut through all of Brian's defenses. His heart suddenly ached. He reached out to Justin, caressing his face gently, and breathed, "You never have to say please…"

Then he grabbed him, drawing the boy to him roughly. He climbed up onto his knees, pulling Justin along, and kissed him, ravishing his lips, plundering his mouth with his tongue. Justin kissed Brian back eagerly and started rubbing up against him. Brian grabbed Justin's ass and squeezed it, pulled Justin closer, and then began rubbing his throbbing erection against Justin's. Justin moaned softly in Brian's mouth.

Unexpectedly, Justin broke away. He tore his clothes off faster than Brian could have imagined and then spun around. In just a few seconds, he was on his knees, bending over, his chest flat against the bed. He moaned, "Quickly, Brian. I need…"

Brian didn't wait for Justin to finish. He freed and sheathed his cock, slicked it with lube, and started pushing it inside Justin.

Justin moaned loudly as Brian's cock rubbed up against his prostate and then cried, "All the way. Please…"

Justin was going to kill him. Brian was sure of it. Justin's begging sent him careening so close to the edge that it took all his willpower to hold back his orgasm as he pushed his cock all the way inside Justin.

"Yes, oh yes," Justin moaned. "Fuck me hard."

Brian obliged, ramming Justin's tight little ass as hard and fast as he could. Justin grunted and moaned. Every thrust sent a pulse of delicious heat through his body.

Justin cried, "Fuck. So good..."

Then suddenly, unbidden, an image of him with Ethan assailed Justin. He bit back tears and moaned, in a voice that quaked with sadness, "Tell me…tell me I'm yours."

Brian's eyes shot open. Justin had never asked him to claim him, not directly, not since they'd made the deal. He hesitated, but, when Justin added softly, so softly, "All yours…," he couldn't stop himself.

He growled, "You're mine. All mine. Your lips, your ass…"

Brian literally stopped breathing when Justin continued, in a husky voice, "and my heart. My heart's all yours, too."


	4. Desperate, But Determined

Justin was lying in bed watching Brian sleep. It was morning, just after sunrise. Brian and Justin had spent the night fucking. They'd had some of the most intense sex ever and had eventually passed out holding each other, exhausted and sweaty, but happy.

Unfortunately, that entire night, Justin was assailed by guilt, shame, and fear; in fact, he'd nearly been overwhelmed by these feelings. He was being eaten alive from the inside out, so every kiss, every caress, was bittersweet, and he was constantly fighting back tears. As usual, Justin held Brian a little tighter than Brian held him, but, the night before, Justin, even in his sleep, had held onto Brian as though for dear life.

Justin was struck by how beautiful Brian looked in the early morning light. He caressed the man's face gently and whispered, his voice filled with anguish, "How could I have been so stupid?"

Tears filled his eyes. All he wanted was for Brian to fix everything, to make him feel clean again and to get Ethan to stay away. But Justin knew that Brian was as likely to make him feel worse, tormenting him endlessly, mercilessly, as he was to claim him as his own and alleviate some of his guilt and shame and as likely to push him into Ethan's arms as he was to remove Ethan from his world.

Justin was dying to tell Brian what had happened and to try to make him understand that it had all been a terrible mistake. The words reverberated through his mind and even his body, as though they would come out of their own accord even if Justin could not utter them. But what good would it do?

Revealing the truth might break his and Brian's connection, might sully everything good between them, while also causing Brian incredible pain (though he probably wouldn't show it), decimating his ego, at least temporarily. Wounding Brian's pride would undoubtedly have disastrous consequences. So, even though keeping the words inside was actually physically painful, Justin resolved to do just that.

He wiped away his tears and whispered, "I got myself into this situation, so I have to get myself out."

Then he kissed Brian's cheek and noiselessly crawled out of bed. He dressed and was out the door in record time.

Unbeknownst to Justin, Brian watched him leave. Once Justin had, Brian asked the empty air, his curiosity barely masking deep concern, "What have you gotten yourself into, Sunshine?"


	5. The Break Up

Justin pounded on Ethan's door. After waiting a few moments, he pounded harder. Eventually, a very sleepy and very naked Ethan emerged.

Ethan smiled when he saw that it was Justin. He whispered, "Hey, Baby. I was just dreaming about you…" and moved to kiss him. He froze when Justin stepped back. He looked as though he'd been struck. Justin let his head fall and closed his eyes. Then, he met Ethan's burning gaze and stated firmly, "Ethan, I can't see you anymore. This has to end."

Ethan's eyes widened. "What? Why? Wait, come inside. Let's talk about this."

Justin looked around uncomfortably, but then nodded and entered the apartment.

Still facing away from Ethan, Justin began to utter the words he'd rehearsed in his head a million times in the last few hours, "You've been wonderful, and I've really enjoyed our time together, but I just…"

He turned around and continued, in a shaky voice, "I'm in love with Brian. Whatever his faults, I'm in love with him and always was. This was a mistake…"

Ethan punched a wall, and, not looking at Justin, he hissed, "No it wasn't! Don't ever say that!"

Justin's eyes widened, and he unconsciously took a step back.

He took a deep breath and half-stated, half-moaned, "I'm so sorry, Ethan. You deserve much better than this."

Then he moved to leave.

Ethan lifted his head and barked, "No!"

Justin jumped a little and turned around. He asked, "What do you mean, no?"

To Justin's great surprise, Ethan smiled. Now that Ethan had ostensibly morphed back into the sweet and mild-mannered, yet slightly intense musician he'd come to know, Justin relaxed a little.

In a cheerful and understanding, but slightly patronizing voice, Ethan offered, "Look, Baby, I know that Brian was your first and that you live with him, that he provides for your basic needs…It makes sense that you'd feel bad, like you owe him something, like you're betraying him…and it's perfectly normal for you to have a soft spot in your heart for him. I still feel all warm and nostalgic when I think of my first lover. But Brian isn't right for you. He doesn't give you what you need. He doesn't have the first clue how to make you happy. But I do. I can make you happy."

Justin sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. He began, "Ethan…"

Unexpectedly, Ethan teared up. He asked, his voice breaking a little, "Is it because of last night? I'm sorry that got so angry. I…(he sighed) it's just that you canceled so suddenly…and I had something special planned…"

"It's not that Ethan. It's not you."

His voice trembling, Ethan pleaded, "I won't pressure you anymore. I promise. I won't get angry when you break dates…"

He swung around abruptly and heaved a bitter laugh. Then he continued, "I mean, I knew you were with someone when we started. I don't have much right to demand that you always put me first…"

Justin approached Ethan slowly and touched his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. He sighed. "Ethan, don't. You did nothing wrong. I just…I just love Brian so much. So completely. Even when I'm angry at him, even when I try to hurt him, he's all I want. He's all I've wanted since the day we met. I have no room in my heart for anyone else. I never did. I'm so sorry…I didn't want to hurt you…I never meant for things to go this far…"

Then he moved to leave. Before he shut the door, Justin whispered, "Goodbye, Ethan."

Ethan turned and watched him go. Soon he was staring at empty space. He wiped the tears out of his eyes, which were growing dark and cold.

He muttered, "This isn't goodbye. It isn't over. Not by a long shot."

*******

As he walked back to the bus stop, Justin smiled. And for the first time in months, his smile reached his eyes. He wasn't filled with bitter disappointment and dashed hopes or plagued by guilt and shame. For this one beautiful moment, he felt so light, as though a terrible weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Only now could he truly relish what Cynthia and Emmett had told him…Brian had not canceled their trip on a whim, but because he'd had no choice, and, when he'd returned, he'd rushed off to find him. He'd wanted to share his good news with him and only him. Brian did love him. He literally skipped the rest of the way. He couldn't wait to see Brian again!


	6. Oranges, Electricity, and a Surprise

Justin juggled the two bags of groceries in his arms as he searched one pocket after another for the key to the loft. He finally managed to find it and unlock the door, and, miraculously, without dropping anything, but as he slid the loft door open, he squeezed the bottom half of the bags too tightly, causing an eruption of foodstuffs. Fortunately, the eggs were at the bottom (and he hadn't squeezed hard enough to crush them, though the bread was probably a mess), but the oranges went bouncing and rolling all over the loft floor. Justin immediately dropped to his knees, set the bags down, and began to crawl around on the floor searching for the renegade oranges.

Justin was still on cloud nine. He'd ended a relationship that never should have started and that had been slowly transforming him into someone he didn't know…and didn't care to know. He was so ready to put that behind him and reclaim his former self, his former connection with Brian. What's more, his faith in Brian had been renewed. Justin was determined to really see Brian from this point on. He never wanted to return to that dark and desperate place where cheating and a superficial relationship seemed to be his only source of beauty and light, where an abundance of empty gestures taken from cheesy romance movies seemed more meaningful than Brian's rare, but profoundly heartfelt acts.

Justin saw one orange rolling toward the center of the living room. He quickly crawled after it. It eventually stopped when it encountered an obstacle, Brian's foot. Justin looked up, smiling nervously. A very naked Brian, his skin damp and warm from the shower, raised an eyebrow and asked in an amused voice, "Sunshine, whatcha doing?"

Justin replied weakly, "Chasing oranges."

Brian chuckled. His laughter was soft and joyful. Justin felt warm all over, as though he were melting. Brian bent down, picked up the orange, and handed it to Justin. Then he looked beyond Justin, catching sight of the grocery bags, and asked, "What's with all the food?"

Justin shrugged and blushed a little. "I don't know…I kind of wanted to make us breakfast, a big one with coffee, pancakes, fresh fruit, eggs, home fries, and bacon…"

He paused, but in response to a look of disgust on Brian's face, he added, "It's turkey bacon…"

Brian stared at Justin for what seemed a long time, a serious expression in his eyes. They also shined with an intensity that sent a warm shiver charging through Justin's body. It was electric. Justin suddenly lost the ability to breathe. Unexpectedly, Brian stood and walked over to his desk. He grabbed the phone and punched in several numbers. Justin was still a little trembly, but he managed to toss the last orange into one of the bags, pick them up, and place them on the counter. He had just begun to unload them when he heard Brian saying, "Cynthia, cancel all my appointments. I'm taking a personal day."

Justin was so shocked that he almost dropped the eggs.


	7. More Falling Oranges

Brian had never taken a personal day. He wasn't even sure what inspired him to do so now. Except…Justin was acting strangely. There was something in his voice, his eyes, and his behavior to which Brian couldn't help but respond. Kind of like how he'd had been when he showed up at Deb's while Ted was in the coma. Displaying a mixture of confidence, need, and something else. Openness? Perhaps that and something more…overwhelming love? Brian hated to even think that word, but the truth was, he needed to feel that from Justin. Lately, he hadn't, not as much, not until last night.

Justin needed something that only Brian could provide, but the converse was also true. Brian would probably never admit this to Justin, or anyone else, but he needed to feel their extraordinary connection; he needed to know, really know, that Justin loved and desired him above all others. And last night, last night, Justin had responded to Brian's touch like never before, with near desperation. Brian had seen something frighteningly intense, even a little sad, in Justin's eyes. Brian cleared his throat and looked down. Perhaps what he needed more than anything else was to show Justin that he mattered.

Lindsay would laugh her ass off if she could see him now. Brian told himself that he needed to purge his lesbianic thoughts, but deep down he knew he was motivated by something else. He walked into the kitchen, approaching Justin from behind. He was now peeling oranges. Brian nuzzled Justin's neck and caressed his ass. Justin froze. Brian unzipped and unbuttoned Justin's jeans and then shoved them down past his knees. All in the blink of an eye. Then he pushed Justin's ass against his erection with one hand and gripped Justin's with the other. Justin gasped. When Brian started to rub his hard leaking cock against Justin's ass, sliding it between his ass cheeks while he also slid his hand up and down Justin's shaft, Justin moaned loudly and leaned his head back on Brian's shoulder. Brian captured Justin's lips with his own, kissing him passionately. Justin's hands went slack, dropping the orange he'd been holding. It rolled off the counter and onto the floor.

Brian broke their kiss and breathed, "Lean forward."

Justin complied. Brian pushed Justin's shirt up and then pulled it off, tossing it to the ground. Then he ran his hands gently down Justin's back as he kneeled, enjoying the softness and warmth of Justin's flushed skin. He spread Justin's ass cheeks and ran his tongue from Justin's lower back all the way down to his entrance. Justin cried out, "Oh…fuck!"

Brian grinned. Then he began swirling his tongue around Justin's entrance, finally pushing it inside. Brian moved his tongue in and out of Justin, occasionally swirling it around his entrance again, until Justin moaned, "Oh god! Fuck…Brian, fuck me, please."

Brian obliged, grabbing a condom and lube from a drawer, sheathing his cock, slicking it with lube, and then beginning to push it inside Justin. Justin grabbed the sides of the counter and bent over completely, so his chest was lying flat. Then he began to pant. The sound inflamed Brian. Suddenly he couldn't hold back. He thrust his cock all the way inside Justin and leaned over him so that his chest was covering Justin's back completely, buried his face in Justin's neck, and grabbed Justin's shaft. Justin moaned a deep body moan as they were joined. In every sense of the word. Brian nudged Justin's chin with his nose. Justin turned and looked into Brian's eyes before plunging his tongue into Brian's mouth. They kissed slow and deep, and Brian fucked Justin (and jerked him off) the same way. As they rocked the counter, wave upon wave of fire burned through Justin's body, and oranges fell one by one onto the floor.


	8. Bad Memories, New Fears

Brian continued to kiss and fuck Justin slow and deep. He stroked Justin's cock at the same pace, but gripped it firmly, so much so that Justin could barely hold back his orgasm. A few minutes later, Brian moved to Justin's neck, sucking, licking, and biting, down from his earlobe to his pulse point and then over to the top of his spine. Justin moaned when Brian sucked on and bit the area by his pulse point and moaned even louder and began to tremble when he did the same to the back of his neck.

Justin was so close. It took everything in him to hold back; he wanted, no needed, release so badly, but what he wanted and needed even more was to prolong his and Brian's connection.

Brian started to caress Justin's ass cheeks with his free hand and whispered, "You have the perfect ass…"

Justin froze.

He couldn't stop himself from remembering the many times Ethan had caressed, kissed, licked, and bit his ass cheeks before swiping his tongue over his entrance and then plunging his tongue or a finger inside. Ethan had often said those very words to him.

Justin shut his eyes tight, trying to push down a wave of nausea and banish that and all other memories of Ethan from his mind. He would have given anything to have been able to do so permanently.

Brian would have continued his meditation (on Justin's fine ass), but Justin cut him off, pleading, "Brian, tell me how much you like fucking me…"

Then he contracted his rectal muscles, enveloping Brian's cock more tightly.

Brian cried out, "Holy fuck, Justin!"

Then in a low growl, punctuated by the occasional grunt or moan, he added, "You are so deliciously tight, even after two years of plowing your ass with my huge cock. I can't go a day without feeling this sweet torture."

As he spoke, Brian had inadvertently started fucking Justin faster. By the time he'd finished, he had nearly finished. He threw back his head and let out an inhuman moan, a regular prelude to his orgasm, but then squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip so hard he drew blood to pull himself back from the edge.

A minute or so later, Justin cried out, "Wait!"

Brian stopped mid-thrust, resting his head on Justin's shoulder as he tried to even out his ragged breathing. Justin separated them quickly and then moved to knock everything off the counter. Brian's eyes widened, and, after a second's hesitation, he grabbed Justin's arms. Then he slowly turned him around and asked, in his sexy drawl, a cute smile on his face, "Whatcha doing?"

Justin replied, in an urgent tone, "I need to look at you while you're fucking me" and tried to turn back around. Brian held Justin still, placed a lingering kiss on his lips, and breathed, "I'm not going anywhere, Sunshine. We don't need to hurry. There's certainly no need to send breakfast flying to the floor. You'd never forgive yourself."

Justin couldn't help but laugh at that. Then Brian lifted Justin into his arms. Justin wrapped his legs around Brian's waist and his arms around Brian's neck as Brian carried him into the living room.

Once there, in a voice akin to laughter, Brian asked, "Bed or table?"

Justin relaxed a bit and even smiled. Then he replied brightly, "Table."

He laid his head on Brian's shoulder and wrapped his arms more tightly around his neck. This was an experience he never could have had with Ethan (Ethan was too short and not very strong). For just that reason, Justin wanted to savor the experience. In response, Brian held Justin a little tighter and walked more slowly.

When they finally reached the table, Brian set Justin down. Justin immediately lay back, and Brian placed Justin's legs onto his shoulders. Then he smiled and shoved his cock entirely inside Justin in one thrust. Justin held Brian's gaze as he did so and then moaned loudly when Brian was completely immured.

Brian began to set a steady rhythm, but Justin pushed back fast, trying to quicken the pace. He arched his back and neck, moaning, "Fuck yeah (big smile)! Oh fuck! Brian, fuck me harder. Harder and faster. Please."

That last word, spoken so softly, touched Brian deeply, in ways he couldn't express. Brian never wanted to deny Justin anything. He just wished that Justin didn't want certain things, such as monogamy and emotional declarations. But for Justin to ever think that he needed to say please for something sexual actually caused Brian physical pain. In fact, Brian eagerly provided for all of Justin's non-emotional needs and begrudgingly provided for some of the rest. If Justin felt he needed to ask please, they were in deep shit trouble. In Brian's estimation, this could only mean one of two things: Either Brian had been lax in meeting Justin's sexual needs or Justin really wanted to ask for something else. Something Brian would undoubtedly find much more difficult to provide than a fast hard fuck.

*******

Brian frowned. "That was weird."

Justin turned to face Brian (he'd been washing potatoes in the sink). "What?"

"Someone just called and hung up."

Justin paled. His chest constricted so much that he could barely breathe. He hadn't even heard the phone ring. When he'd recovered a little, he suggested as nonchalantly as he could, "Maybe it was a wrong number."

Brian nodded absently. "Yeah. Maybe."

Brian went back to working at his desk, while Justin turned back to the potatoes. He'd never been more scared in his life. Not even after the bashing. True, for a long while after, he'd been freaked out by almost everyone, but his need for Brian had been stronger than his fear of strangers. It was for Brian that he'd braved the streets alone and for Brian that he'd worked through his social anxiety, albeit with some help.

Justin needed, like never before, to feel safe in his relationship or whatever with Brian, to feel that Brian loved him, but asking Brian to say the words was out of the question. He also needed to show Brian unequivocally that he loved and wanted him above everyone else. But how?

Finally, after Justin had finished making breakfast and setting the table, a solution came to him.

So as they were eating, Justin asked as evenly as he could manage, "The rules are all about choice, right, Brian? Because you want us to always be able to choose what we want and not be trapped or forced into anything?"

Brian studied Justin's expression for a moment, thinking, "Here it comes," before answering, "Yes."

Justin nodded. Then with a firm set to his chin (and his voice), though he couldn't quite hold Brian's gaze, he said, "Okay. Well…I never wanted to trick. I only did it because it seemed stupid to remain faithful to you if you weren't going to be faithful to me and because you seemed to want me to fuck other people. (Justin couldn't quite keep his voice even on the last few words.) But now, I realize that I've been unwittingly pushed into leading a life I don't want. So I'm just going to stop."

Justin paused for a moment, but then looked up, directly into Brian's eyes, and continued, with a newfound confidence, "I love you. I want to be your boyfriend. That's all I've ever wanted. So that's what I'm going to do. You do what you want. I'll do what I want, and we'll both be happy."

Brian protested, "But it's not fair."

An edge crept into Justin's voice. He countered, "How is it not fair? I get you, you get tons of anonymous sex…"

Brian interrupted Justin, stating, in a gentle voice and with a concerned look in his eyes, "Because you wish I would stop tricking."

Justin swallowed hard and nodded before replying, "You're right, Brian. I do wish you were satisfied with only me. But my tricking, or lack thereof, has absolutely no effect on whether or not you are. So why should I do what I don't want to do because I can't have what I do want? That makes no sense. I love and want you. Only you."

Justin shrugged and continued, "So what if that means being with a man who may never tell me that he loves me and who may never stop tricking? I believe that you love me, and, at the moment, that's enough. Should the day come when it's not, I'll leave."

Brian sighed and looked at Justin helplessly. He didn't understand this game, this tactic. Finally he asked, "Is this a ploy to make me feel guilty? Cause you know I don't do guilt."

"No. Not at all. It's just…tricking makes me feel empty and a little cheap."

Justin's face broke out into a big smile when Brian, eyes dancing, grinned. He admitted, "And yes, feeling cheap can be fun, but not all the time."

Then more seriously, "Not for me."

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth.

Justin clenched and unclenched a fist and took a deep breath before informing Brian, "Oh but there has to be a new rule."

Brian sighed. He knew there had to be a catch. "What?"

"No tricking at home or when we're out together."

Brian's eyes widened.

"You said that every day we are together, you are choosing to come home to me."

"Yes…"

"Well, that presupposes we have a home. Right now, we don't. Right now, we have what my mother calls a 'fuck pad.' A fuck pad in which we also sleep."

After another deep breath, Justin stated boldly, "I want to make a home for us, and I don't want either of us tricking there."

In a softer voice, Justin explained, "You don't have to become all domestic. That's not what I'm asking for. I'm just asking for you to let me be who I want to be and live where I want to live."

Brian frowned. He couldn't deny that Justin's request, at least about not tricking at home, was fair.

He sighed, but then looked directly into Justin's eyes, an intense expression therein, and agreed, "Okay…I won't trick at home. But not tricking while we're out together…I don't know."

Justin laughed. "Brian, I'm not going to be out at the clubs every night. That's not really the person I am. I only did that because you did and because I wanted to spend time with you. Sometimes I like to go out, but not all the time. Trust me, you'll have plenty of opportunities to trick."

He hesitated and looked down. Then in a small voice that caused Brian's chest to tighten, he added, "It's just that…when we're out together, I want it to be just you and me."

Fuck.

Brian nearly agreed then and there. But he refused to make a promise based solely on emotions. So he inquired, though softly, "But what if I see a guy I want while we're out together? As per our already established rules, I'm not supposed to exchange numbers with anyone."

Justin laughed and rolled his eyes. "Is it so hard to tell the aforementioned guy to meet you somewhere later?"

Brian smiled. "I hadn't thought of that. I guess not."

In a firm voice that never wavered, Justin offered, "If you still want the loft as a place where you take tricks, that's fine. But we'll need to get another place for us."

Brian sighed. "It just sounds so complicated."

Justin's eyes flashed, which immediately elicited a response from Brian's cock.

Then he stated evenly, "Brian, you asked me to take you as you are. Okay. I do. The question is, can you do the same for me?"

When put like that, Brian was hard pressed to say no.

"Okay."

Justin rewarded him with a million-watt smile. Brian couldn't help but smile back.


	9. Exhaustion

Justin had been running himself ragged for the last three weeks. He cooked two or three times a day, usually three, he worked his regular shifts at the diner, he studied and worked on art projects, and he fucked and sucked like a man on a mission. He woke Brian every morning with a blow job, wiggled his ass in offering during their morning shower, brought Brian lunch (to his office) and some "afternoon delight" every midday, served dinner naked (most times they'd ended up eating it off one another), and, if Brian had had the energy to go out, dragged him into the shower and sucked him off and then dragged him into bed and rode his cock. If Brian had not gone out, Justin would let Brian work for a little while and then sneak up on him, licking, nibbling on, and brushing his lips against Brian's ear, neck, and shoulder in turn as he rubbed Brian's cock through his pants and he whispered, in a husky voice, how much he needed to taste Brian or feel Brian moving inside him...until Brian growled and pushed him roughly against the nearest pillar, bent him over the desk, or carried him off to bed. Then they'd spend the evening fucking.

So Brian was receiving anywhere between six and nine orgasms a day from Justin alone. And, though Brian doubted Justin knew this, he always worked harder when he and Justin were fucking (than when he fucked others). That had always been the case. It was never enough for Brian to simply get Justin off. No. He had to tempt, tease, and torment for a long while first. Therefore, Justin's increased sexual appetite hadn't left Brian with much energy or desire for extracurricular fucking. And maybe that was the point. All Brian knew was that he'd tricked a paltry three times in as many weeks, twice during the first and once during the second. But Justin's herculean efforts had taken a toll on him.

The little fucker was, as Brian realized when he woke up for the first time in three weeks without Justin's mouth on his cock, suffering from a serious fever. Brian had awoke to find Justin burning up and moaning softly in his sleep. Brian had panicked when Justin couldn't be roused. He'd called a doctor he'd once fucked (before names and numbers were forbidden). He'd been kind enough (or grateful enough for the ass pounding Brian had once given him) to make a house call. After he'd taken Justin's temperature and listened to him breathe with his stethoscope (Justin had been wheezing and coughing though he still slept), he'd declared that Justin most likely had pneumonia. He'd prescribed antibiotics (and ibuprofen for the fever). Then he'd informed Brian that Justin would need to be taken to the hospital if he didn't respond to the antibiotics or his fever worsened or persisted for more than a day. The former trick had brought samples, so Brian would be able to give Justin his first dose (of the antibiotic as well as a couple of ibuprofen) right away. Now he sat by Justin's side pills in one hand, a glass of water in the other.

He called Justin's name. Justin stirred and then slowly opened his eyes. He replied weakly, "Brian…"

Brian let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when Justin spoke. He told himself that he hadn't been afraid. He'd simply been dreading the hassle of calling 9-1-1 for an ambulance.


	10. Shaken

Ethan had been calling Justin every day for three weeks. He would say how much he missed him, how much their time together meant to him, and how he could barely function without him. Then he'd say he didn't know what missing Justin might make him crazy enough to do. In this way, he subtly threatened to tell Brian about their former 'relationship.' He wanted to make Justin squirm (never knowing when or where the truth might be revealed), all the while acting as though he weren't doing so on purpose.

Justin had told Ethan enough about Brian, little though it was, for Ethan to find him. Everyone knew where the stud of Liberty Avenue lived and where he hung out, and they were all willing to talk. However, Ethan was afraid that Brian wouldn't believe him. He couldn't prove that he and Justin had fucked more than once. Even if Brian did believe him, Ethan's revealing the truth wouldn't get him Justin back, and that's what he really wanted. Thus, he was hoping to scare Justin into outing himself. To drive him so crazy that he'd admit it.

Then Brian would crush Justin. Ethan was certain of that. When Justin had told Ethan about "the rules," Ethan had asked whether he was the first person with whom Justin had broken them. Unfortunately (for Justin), he'd been honest, telling Ethan about the virgin he'd deflowered and the look on Brian's face when he'd sensed what Justin had done.

Surely a second betrayal, one that was much, much deeper than the first, would send Brian over the edge. According to the scuttlebutt around town, Brian was arrogant and prideful. To maintain his dignity, after not only being betrayed a second time but also lied to, surely, he would need to kick Justin out, perhaps even severing all ties. Then, then, Ethan would swoop in. He'd make Justin feel loved and wanted, and, pretty soon, Justin would be right back where he belonged, in Ethan's bed.

Of course, if it looked like that would never happen, he might have to tell Brian. He'd never get Justin back that way, but if he couldn't have Justin, he sure has hell wasn't going to let Brian have him.

Ethan looked at his watch. It was just about time for his daily phone call to Justin (he always called during Justin's afternoon shift at the diner, right before Justin would be heading home).

**********

Brian had given Justin his medication and had run out to the pharmacy to get the prescription filled. Then he let Cynthia know he'd be taking a personal day. He'd spent most of it trying to work at his desk, but he ended up spending most of his time checking on Justin (who had spent most of the day sleeping) and thinking.

Finally, in the afternoon, he gave up all pretense of working and sat next to Justin on the bed, giving voice to the thoughts that had been plaguing him since he awoke.

Brian asked Justin's sleeping form softly, "Are you really willing to kill yourself to get me to stop tricking? Or were you trying to scare me into saying the words?"

He sighed and caressed Justin's face gently.

"It's been a week since I tricked and three since I tricked as normal."

He chuckled. "I can't exactly say I've been unsatisfied." He added mentally, "And so far, no one's said anything. Mikey's been so wrapped up in Ben and Ted and Emmett in each other that they could care less what I do." Then aloud, he whispered, "Maybe I should stop tricking altogether. Maybe I should say the words. I do you know."

Unexpectedly, Justin stirred. He opened his eyes and whispered, "I know you do, Brian. I know."

Brian couldn't help but smile, seeing Justin awake, hearing the certainty in his voice, the certainty that Justin had been lacking since the bashing. The bashing. Brian's chest ached every time he thought of it, every time he was reminded of how he'd almost lost Justin. Brian looked down and swallowed hard. If Justin didn't recover…if his fever persisted (as it had all day)… Brian shook his head to banish the thought. Suddenly, he couldn't keep the words in anymore. Suddenly, he knew he could no longer keep Justin at arm's length with his tricking.

He lifted his head until his eyes met Justin's and then whispered huskily, "I love you, Justin. I love you so fucking much."

Justin's breath hitched in his throat, his heart stopped beating, and tears filled his eyes. He moaned, "Oh Brian, I love you, too. More than I could ever say."

Brian smiled softly. Then he leaned in to kiss Justin's lips. But he stopped halfway when Justin's phone started ringing. Justin's eyes widened in horror.


	11. The Truth, Needing You to Want Me

Justin cried out, "Brian, don't…don't answer that!"

Brian looked at Justin strangely and quirked an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Justin took a shuddering breath and looked into Brian's eyes, his own teary and red rimmed. "I don't deserve your love."

Brian snapped, "What the fuck are you talking about?" Brian might not always have given Justin the assurances he needed about their 'relationship' or whatever-the-fuck it was, or his feelings, but he never said Justin wasn't worthy of his love, that his reticence was something Justin deserved. If anything, he thought words were empty. He'd never said he didn't love Justin; he simply thought Justin should know how he felt. Okay, maybe he was afraid to pin himself down. To make his feelings crystal clear. The ambiguity, the maybe not, protected him, or so he had thought. But Justin's illness made it abundantly clear that whether or not Justin knew how Brian felt, Brian did. Maybe he could pretend to the world that Justin's being gone wouldn't faze him, maybe he could save face, but that's all it would be, face, a mask, a delusion. He would experience very real pain if Justin…he couldn't even think it. Then his reputation would be the last thing on his mind.

Justin tried to hold back his tears, to breathe normally, but he couldn't. His illness and the constant strain he'd been under for the last month made that impossible. The floodgate had finally burst. He whispered, "Nothing I do can ever make it right…I'm sorry, so sorry."

Brian clenched a fist and took a deep breath, but his response still came out sharp. "Justin, what the fuck are you talking about? Why are you sorry? Why didn't you want me to answer the phone?"

Justin covered his face with his hands and replied, in a tiny, wavering voice, "I broke the rules. For two months."

Brian's eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and he suddenly felt hollow inside. Finally, he managed, "What?"

Justin took another shuddering breath and climbed out of bed, though he was unsteady on his feet.

"Justin, where are you going?"

Justin shook his head as though in answer to a question only he could hear, took out a suitcase, and started packing.

Brian just stared. Justin had gone mad with fever. That was the only explanation. He moved to stop Justin, but Justin pushed his hands away. Then he stood up straight (though he wobbled a little) and said, in a soft but clear voice, "I had a romantic relationship with someone else for two months. I kissed him, and I fucked him much more than once."

Brian suddenly felt nauseous. Justin, his Justin, could never do that. Once maybe, but for two months? Brian shut his eyes tight and let his head fall. This, this, was why he didn't believe in sentimental proclamations. They led you into a false sense of security. Everything Justin had said, over and over, had led Brian to trust that Justin loved and wanted only him. That he would always love and want only him. He couldn't do this. He needed to get the facts and then make decisions. Act. Feelings wouldn't get them anywhere.

Brian, to his dismay, croaked, "Is it over?"

Justin couldn't bring himself to utter bullshit explanations or justifications or to give his affair with Ethan more importance than it deserved by speaking of it in detail aloud, so he simply nodded. Then he continued packing.

Brian sighed. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving. No matter how many times I tell you I love you, no matter how many tricks I turn away, no matter how many times I try to show you with my body just how much you mean to me, how beautiful I think you are, none of that (his voice broke)…none of that could ever erase what I did."

Brian rolled his lips into his mouth. After a moment's hesitation, he crawled across the bed to where Justin was packing and pulled him into his lap, wrapping his arms around him. Then he said softly, "You're too sick to go anywhere. You should be in bed."

Justin jumped out of Brian's arms with a force Brian would never have anticipated, not even when Justin was healthy.

"No! No more fucking pity. I'm not a God-damned waif, Brian. I never want you to feel stuck with me." He started throwing his clothes into the suitcase more quickly, like he couldn't get out fast enough. He periodically brushed away tears, which continued to stream down his face, and leaned on the bed and held onto the wardrobe for support as he moved from one to the other.

Brian sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he looked up at Justin helplessly. He cursed. "Fuck, fine. You win!"

Justin stopped packing then. He just stared at Brian.

Brian actually stammered, and Justin could hear unshed tears in his voice, "I…I fucking want you to stay. But not just because you have a fever, and I don't care that you broke the rules. I mean, fuck, I do, but that doesn't mean I want you to leave." He sighed heavily and then snapped, "Okay? So fucking stop packing!" With that Brian sent the suitcase flying across the loft.

Justin was stunned into paralysis. For about three seconds. Then he threw himself into Brian's lap, straddling him, and, tears still streaming down his face, he attacked Brian's lips, thrusting his tongue into his mouth and kissing him with a desperation he'd never yet felt. He loved Brian so much in this moment that it was physically painful. Only being close to him, touching him, kissing him, being fucked by him, and enveloped in his scent, his warmth, could make the pain disappear.

Brian wanted to push Justin away, wanted to reject him, hurt him, to make Justin beg, but…he just couldn't. He couldn't deny himself this. After spending the day afraid that Justin might…fuck, he was still afraid…he needed this…this connection as much as Justin did. Today he was an honorary lesbian, for he needed to experience, to relish in, Justin's hunger for him. He needed to be reminded that there was at least one thing Justin couldn't get anywhere else.


	12. No, But I Will

Justin laid open-mouthed kisses all over Brian's neck as he whispered, "Fuck me, hard, Brian, no lube. I want you to rip me in two."

Brian growled as he flipped Justin onto his back and pushed his hands above his head, holding him down with such force that Justin knew he'd have bruises. Brian stared at Justin with a ferocious glint in his eyes. Justin trembled. Brian hissed, "You want me to fucking hurt you?"

Justin's voice broke as he replied, softly and with pleading eyes, "Yes."

Brian leaned closer to Justin, so close that their lips nearly touched. Justin whimpered in anticipation. Brian growled again and sent his lips crashing down onto Justin's, kissing him rough and deep. Justin moaned into Brian's mouth and kissed him back eagerly. But when Brian released Justin's wrists, circled Justin's waist with his hands, and moved to a kneeling position, carrying Justin with him, Justin broke their kiss and moaned, "No. I want to feel your weight on me."

Brian ran a hand through his hair as he looked down and whispered, "I can't take you hard. Not now. Not while you're sick."

Justin let out a little cry and began pulling Brian's clothes off. Brian's wife beater hit the floor first. Then Justin pushed Brian onto his back and unfastened and removed Brian's jeans. Next he pulled off the T-shirt and sweats Brian had dressed him in, unbeknownst to him, before the doctor's house call. He moved off Brian's lap and took Brian's now fully erect cock into his mouth, even as he grabbed a condom from under the mattress. He immediately deepthroated Brian's cock, taking the tip into his throat and swallowing around it. Brian cursed, "Fuck, Justin!"

Justin moaned as he sucked Brian's cock, causing the taller man to tremble. Then he pulled away and sat up. Brian had closed his eyes. They began to flutter open again when Brian felt Justin sheathing his cock and then snapped all the way open when Justin straddled him, positioned the tip of Brian's cock at his entrance, and then impaled himself on it, burying Brian's cock to the hilt in one go. Justin threw back his head and cried out, and Brian let out a deep body moan. The contrast between the pleasure Brian was receiving and the pain Justin was experiencing was stark. In fact, the pain was so intense that a tear escaped Justin's tightly shut eyes and rolled down his cheek. After a moment, Justin started riding Brian's cock, his eyes still shut tightly, but his mouth open slightly, and his skin flushed. Brian was torn. Justin, wantonly riding Brian's shaft, looked so fucking hot, so fucking beautiful, and being inside Justin without lubrication, without having stretched him first, felt so fucking incredible. Brian didn't want to stop Justin, not even for half a minute to let him adjust, but he had to. He knew that. So he grabbed Justin's hips and held him in place. Justin whimpered and opened his eyes. Brian remembered that morning he'd observed Justin crying, remembered their desperate fucking the night before, remembered Justin's near-manic attempts to please him over the last few weeks, remembered that it had almost killed Justin, that it still could, and growled, "Justin, stop punishing yourself!"

Then Brian flipped them over so that he was lying on top of Justin. He looked into Justin's eyes, his own wild and intense. Justin's breath caught in his throat. Brian asked, in a voice that shook despite all his efforts to keep it even, "Did you let him fuck you?"

Brian could see the pain in Justin's eyes. He knew the answer to that question without Justin uttering a single word.

"Did he tell that he loved you?"

Justin's chest constricted. He couldn't have spoken if his life depended on it. So he simply nodded.

Brian closed his eyes for a moment, but then inquired, his voice breaking, "Did you…"

Brian didn't need to finish the question. Justin knew what he wanted to know. He found his voice now, replying firmly, "No."

Brian let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and blinked back tears. He slid his hands behind Justin's neck and leaned down, brushing his lips against Justin's before thrusting his tongue inside Justin's mouth, slowly exploring. Justin moaned, threaded his fingers through Brian's hair, and kissed him back. After a couple of minutes of intense, but slow necking, Brian pulled back and whispered, "I can live with that."

Suddenly, Justin couldn't breathe, and his chest ached so terribly. He quickly brushed away the tears that sprung to his eyes. Had Brian forgiven him? He was so desperate for Brian to forgive him.

Then Brian nuzzled Justin's neck, and while his expression, his eyes, were hidden, he added softly, "I love you, Justin. So fucking much."

Justin pulled Brian back so that he could see the older man's eyes. What he saw there stopped his heart, and he felt like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him. Finally he managed to whisper back, "I love you, too, Brian. Always, only you."

Suddenly Brian moved to a kneeling position, drawing Justin up with him. He licked Justin's neck from his pulse point to his ear, causing the younger man to shiver, nibbled on Justin's ear lobe, and then nibbled and sucked on Justin's neck. Justin threw back his head to give Brian more access and moaned. Brian then began to thrust into Justin while also pulling Justin toward him, one hand on the back of Justin's neck and the other on his waist. He fucked him slow. Somehow Justin knew that Brian needed to run the show this time, so he didn't try to quicken the pace. He simply arched his back, plunging Brian's cock deeper inside him and mewled. Every time they came close to the edge Brian temporarily slowed the pace, sometimes stopping entirely, backing them off, before starting to fuck Justin again with that steady pace. They fucked like that (Justin would have called it making love) for a solid hour, Brian alternately placing open-mouthed kisses on Justin's lips, neck, and chest, plunging his tongue into Justin's mouth, kissing him slow and deep, and devouring Justin's body with his eyes. It was delicious torture. Finally Brian angled his hips and began thrusting shallowly inside Justin, hammering his prostate. Justin moaned Brian's name over and over, arched his back, and came, without either of them having touched his cock. When Justin clamped down onto Brian's cock, Brian thrust inside once more, before throwing his back and roaring.

Holding Justin tight, he let them fall onto the bed (on their sides) and covered them up with the duvet. Once he'd ditched the condom, he held Justin a little tighter and kissed him on the forehead.

Justin stared at Brian for a long moment before asking hesitantly, "Brian…do you forgive me?"

Brian didn't answer right away. Instead he took a few pills (Justin's next dose of ibuprofen and the antibiotic) and a glass of water off the end table and handed both to Justin. After he placed the glass back onto the end table, he turned off the blue light, thrusting the loft into darkness (the sun had just set, and the moon had not yet risen), pulled Justin close, and whispered, "No. But I will."


	13. Look at Me, Part 1

Brian wanted to hurt Justin, to work his anger out, as he did with every other emotion, sexually, but that was still out of the question. Justin's fever had broken, but he was still very weak. The doctor prescribed two days bed rest minimum. Brian spent the next two days at the loft, watching over Justin. Justin passed most of the two days sleeping, so Brian had ample time to think. That was unfortunate. Thinking about Justin kissing some guy, letting that guy fuck him, over and over, drove Brian half-insane. He couldn't stave off ultra-lesbianic thoughts. They washed over him and through him and played on an endless loop in his mind until he was about ready to drink himself into oblivion or strangle someone. Slowly. Of course, Brian could do neither. Justin's near death experience had shaken Brian to his core. Even though Justin's fever had broken, Brian still needed to be there and fully conscious, just in case. So he let the questions eat away at him from the inside out. Was the guy hot? Hotter than Brian? Was he a good fuck? More skillful than Brian? Did Justin love him? Even though he had not said the words, Justin could very well have loved this guy; Brian knew all too well that that was true. Did Justin mewl, whimper, and beg this guy to pound his tight little ass, as Justin had done with Brian countless times? Did Justin suck this guy's cock as masterfully as he had sucked Brian's every day for the last year? Did they fuck in the shower? Did Justin bury his face in this guy's neck and wiggle and rub up against him until he was nestled snuggly in his embrace, like he did with Brian every night? Did this guy take Justin's breath away? Did he make Justin's heart skip a beat?

On the third day, Justin emerged from the bed bad as new, ready to take on the world. Brian smiled softly. Everything was okay again. But of course, nothing was okay. Not for Brian or Justin. As much as Brian loved seeing Justin smiling and whole, beautiful, he hated it, too. He hated Justin. A little. He hated that this man-boy, this beautiful man-boy, could make Brian feel so small, so insecure. So Brian spent as much time as he could at work. He didn't go to Woody's or Babylon since he had told Justin he wouldn't trick. He didn't even go to the diner anymore because Justin, in response to Brian's spending more time at work (for Justin, the silence in the loft was deafening and nearly painful), took every extra shift he could, which meant that Brian could run into Justin there at any time of the day. When Brian was home, he slept or pretended to work, and, when Justin tried to initiate anything sexual, Brian always pushed him away, claiming that he was tired or busy. The few times they'd actually fucked in the last two weeks, Brian had initiated it, taking Justin from behind and minimizing foreplay. He didn't even kiss Justin anymore. Not once in two weeks. Justin was going out of his mind. But he said nothing. He knew that Brian felt betrayed and hurt and was punishing him. He was determined to simply wait it out. Eventually, Brian would forgive him.

But after a few more days passed, Justin couldn't take it anymore. He needed Brian to talk to him, to see him. So he left work early and went to the loft to wait for Brian. Brian arrived at 11pm to find the loft shrouded in darkness. Justin was sitting on the couch, barely visible in the moonlight streaming through the window. He had been sitting there since that afternoon drinking. He'd watched the sun set and the moon rise, and he'd waited. He didn't move or look up when Brian came in. He just sat there staring at the tumbler full of scotch in his hand. Brian froze when he saw Justin but then went around the loft turning on lights. Then he started busying himself with papers on his desk. That's when he caught the glint of metal out of the corner of his eye. He wheeled around to find Justin drawing the edge of a knife across the porcelain white skin of his wrist. Not hard enough to slice through veins, but hard enough to draw blood. Brian closed the distance between them in a blink of an eye and moved to grab the knife, but Justin jumped up and stepped out of Brian's reach.

As evenly as Brian could manage, he said, "Justin, give me the knife."

Justin said nothing, but did not comply. When he moved the knife back to his wrist, in a near panic, Brian cried out, "Stop. I need you to stop this."

Justin lifted his head and said, nonchalantly, "Oh were you talking to me?"

Brian growled, "You know I was. Give me the knife."

Justin's eyes widened. "Oh you're acknowledging my existence now?"

Brian just stared at Justin.

Justin once again moved the knife to his wrist. His wrist was dripping with blood. The contrast of Justin's porcelain skin stained red with blood made Brian nauseous and terrified him. He lunged at Justin before he could again mar his once flawless skin, tackling Justin and trying to pry the knife out of his hand. Justin held onto it stubbornly.

Brian actually begged, "Please Justin. Give me the knife."

Justin shook his head. "Not until you look at me."

Brian noted with annoyance, "I _am_ looking at you."

Justin shook his head again, more firmly this time. "No. I need you to really _see_ me. To see me, the guy who loves and wants only you, who desperately needs you to love him, to want him."

Brian looked away. Justin threw the knife across the loft, sending it skittering across the floor and into the leg of Brian's desk. It clanged loudly. Then Justin yelled, "Fucking look at me, Brian! Look at me!"

Brian sighed and turned his head until their eyes met. Brian's were dull and lifeless. Justin said, in a voice that trembled, "I need you to look at me when you're fucking me. I need you to kiss me. To speak to me. Or fucking hit me. Curse me. Kick me out. Just _do_ something! Please." The last word was a desperate whisper. It rent Brian's heart in two. Brian looked at Justin then. Really looked at him. Noting his wan complexion, his red, puffy eyes, his blood streaked arm, his trembling body, and his chin, held firm. Brian closed his eyes tight and let his head fall. When he opened his eyes once more, there was a softness in them that Justin hadn't seen in nearly three weeks. Then Brian sent his lips crashing down onto Justin's, moaning softly the moment their lips made contact.


	14. Look at Me, Part 2

Justin threaded his fingers through Brian's soft chestnut hair and pulled the man to him roughly, seizing him and kissing him almost violently. Justin let his hands slide down Brian's body, one to his neck and the other to his small, firm ass. Then he drew Brian nearer and kissed him more deeply and with greater vigor. Justin needed to touch as much of Brian's body as possible, to draw every part of Brian nearer. To breathe in his scent, taste his lips, and feel his rapidly growing erection against his own. They were so close that Justin could hear the ever quickening thump of Brian's heart. He sighed and began to grind against Brian, causing both he and Brian to moan deep body moans.

After a few minutes of frantic necking and grinding, Brian suddenly needed to take control. He flipped Justin onto his stomach and started licking, sucking, and biting Justin's neck. He couldn't get enough. He even pulled Justin's collar down to get at more skin. He sucked and bit so hard that he left hickeys all over Justin's neck. Justin moaned loudly and rutted against the floor for a few minutes, but then breathed, "No, wait" and pushed Brian off of him. Then he flipped onto his back and stated firmly, "Mark my entire body if you want to, but don't shut me out." Brian hesitated for two or three seconds but then ripped Justin's shirt off and started licking, sucking, and biting Justin's chest and stomach, leaving hickeys in his wake. Justin smiled and ran his fingers through Brian's hair, all the while moaning, "Yes, yes, fuck, yes." Reaching Justin's waist, Brian unbuttoned Justin's pants and continued his ministrations downward. When Brian licked the tip of Justin's cock, Justin groaned. Brian unzipped Justin's pants and pulled them down and off and then quickly stripped off his own clothes. Three seconds later Brian's cock was sheathed and slicked with lube and Justin's legs were on Brian's shoulders. Brian had pulled them up with one fluid, slightly brutal movement. Brian's ferocity caused Justin's breathing to grow ragged and his heart to stop beating.

Brian pushed his cock all the way inside Justin in one thrust. Justin grunted and bit his lip, but then hissed, his eyes flashing, "Yes, fuck, yes."

Brian started panting after a few more thrusts. He leaned in and ravaged Justin's lips, as though he were staking a claim, and Justin threaded his fingers through Brian's hair, moaned, and kissed Brian back desperately. A couple minutes later, Brian broke their kiss, leaving Justin's lips red and swollen and his eyelids heavy with desire. Brian quickened the pace, and Justin met Brian's thrusts eagerly. Justin moaned softly, "Brian…"

Then, when Brian began pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in and moving inside Justin shallowly, Justin mewled and then cried out, "Yes, yes, oh Brian, don't stop, oh don't stop." Brian froze at that and started pounding Justin's ass hard. He hissed, "Did he fuck you hard?"

Justin's eyes darkened, but he said nothing. Brian slowed their rhythm and again started pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in and moving inside Justin shallowly. Justin started panting and moaned, "Please, more, more, more..." Brian hissed, "Did he make you moan and beg? Did he fuck you like this, like I do?"

Justin shook his head frantically. He whispered breathlessly, "No. No. No one ever could fuck me like you do."

Brian then started pounding Justin's ass again, grabbed Justin's purple, leaking cock, and began stroking it. He squeezed hard as he slid his hand up and down Justin's shaft, causing Justin's eyes to widen. Justin moaned loudly, "Ohhhhh fuck, Brian" and came then, Brian's orgasm following seconds later. He pulled out, ripped the condom off, and collapsed onto Justin's chest. Justin held Brian tight. They lay there like that on the floor, covered in their sweat and Justin's cum and blood, for a few minutes, silent, except for their ragged breathing and quickly beating hearts. Finally, Brian swallowed hard, caressed Justin's cheek with his own, and whispered huskily, "Did…did you love him?"

Justin answered quickly and firmly, "No."

Then he pulled Brian's head back until their eyes met and shook his head. "Brian, no. I've…I've only ever loved you."

Brian's chest constricted, and he had to blink a few times, but, when he was able to say so evenly, he whispered, "I've only ever loved you, too, Justin."

Justin's eyes filled with tears then. He pleaded, "Please say you forgive me, Brian."

Brian swallowed hard and nodded. "I do, Sunshine. I do."


	15. Fluid Motion and Stillness

"_Did…did you love him?"_

"_No." _

"_Brian, no. I've…I've only ever loved you."_

"_I've only ever loved you, too, Justin."_

"_Please say you forgive me, Brian."_

"_I do, Sunshine. I do."_

Justin felt as free as he had that morning he'd broken up with Ethan. But it was better. So much better. Everything was out in the open. Everything. Even Brian's feelings. Brian had said that he loved him. Justin sighed. If only Brian had been able to say the words before, before…he had. Justin clenched a fist and took a deep breath. Brian had forgiven him. He wasn't going to qualify everything as before and after Ethan. He wouldn't let himself. He was going to live in the moment. And right now, the moment was wondrous. Phenomenal. Amazing.

Justin smiled as his eyes fell once more on Brian's naked form, tracing its long lines. Justin ran his fingers up Brian's leg and then flattened his hand and slid it across his chest, inching it slowly over his soft skin, still damp from their exertions, though he slept now. Brian was hard and soft, smooth and stubbly, furry and bristly, depending upon where you touched him. Justin loved all of it, every inch of Brian's body. He always had. But now, now, it was all his. All Justin's. This thought caused Justin's cock to harden every time it crossed his mind. Justin shivered. He leaned down, nuzzled Brian's neck, and moved his body a bit closer to Brian's.

Brian moaned softly, pulled Justin into his arms, and rolled onto his side. Brian was actually spooning Justin. _Brian Kinney_ was _spooning_ him. Justin smiled and started rubbing Brian's cock with his ass. Brian groaned and held Justin tighter. Brian brushed his lips against Justin's neck and slid his hand over Justin's growing erection. Justin tilted his head to the left, exposing more of his neck, and pushed back against Brian even harder, gyrating his hips as Brian alternately stroked his cock and swiped the precum off its tip, all the while laying open-mouthed kisses all over his neck. Justin began to pant when Brian's open-mouthed kisses became less chaste, that is, when Brian started licking, sucking on, and biting Justin's neck.

Sunlight filtered through the windows, falling on flushed porcelain and bronze skin, damp blond and chestnut hair, and undulating bodies, all mingling, all one. Sunlight fell on the arch Justin's chest made as he writhed into Brian's lips and against Brian's hard cock. Justin's soft desperate moans and Brian's low growls floated with the dust motes in the air. Then everything, outside and in, was swirling and rolling. The dust motes tumbled and spun out of control after Brian and Justin's joined exhalation of breath, a husky I love you, setting heat and electricity eddying and flowing and pouring out of their bodies. For a moment, they froze, Brian's left arm held tight against Justin's chest, his face buried in Justin's neck, Justin's head tilted to the left, his eyes closed and his mouth open slightly, his chest arched, their bodies the perfect representation of both fluid motion and stillness. Like the space between two heart beats.

Many hours later, when the sun had started to set, their deep sleep was interrupted by a very insistent ringing. And then another. Justin's cell phone and the landline. Brian groaned and buried his face more deeply in Justin's neck, as if doing so would make the ringing stop. But it only got worse. Brian's cell joined in the fracas. Brian sighed heavily and started disentangling himself from Justin, but Justin flipped over onto his other side and pulled Brian against him tight. He was beyond tired of poorly timed phone calls. Brian simply gave in. He had no urge to do anything, except stay in bed with Justin. The cacophony of rings eventually ended, but then the loft was filled with a different kind of dissonance. Debbie's yelling. "Look you little, asshole. You can't hide from me forever. Sunshine's been better for more than a week, but both of you skipped the last two Sunday dinners. No more. I'm making a special dinner tonight to celebrate Sunshine's good health, and I expect to see both of you there. Front and center in one hour. No excuses. Fuck with me and I'll kick your asses all the way to Cancun."

Her message was followed by two very heavy sighs. Then they slowly climbed out of bed.

Cynthia had been the one to call Brian's cell. She had this to say: "If you're going to be MIA, the least you could do is warn me. I had to reschedule three appointments, delay a presentation, and head Vance off several times. I managed to convince the client's secretary that the presentation was originally set for tomorrow, a Jedi mind trick you'll no doubt love, but this kind of task (and fending off Grabby VonPerv) far exceeds my pay bracket. And yes, that was a not-so-subtle hint. I hope to hell you time warped back to the 90s for an impromptu orgy with the Baldwins."

Brian couldn't help but smile. She'd die of shock if she knew what Brian had actually been doing.

Justin's message was as different from Brian's as you could get. It was from Ethan. (Justin only listened to the last one; there were 14 others). Ethan had this to say or, rather, to whine: "Baby. Sorry. Sorry. I guess I can't call you that anymore. _Justin_, why haven't you been taking my calls? It's been a week. I mean, I know you said we were over, but do you have to cut me out of your life completely? Can't we at least be friends? (sigh) I respect your choice, though I won't pretend to understand it, but I need you in my life. In some capacity. Please call me back. Please."

Justin sighed. Ethan was the biggest mistake he'd ever made and one that the universe just wouldn't let him forget. He still felt all kinds of bad. And not just because he'd betrayed Brian, though that pained him in a way nothing else ever could. He hadn't wanted to hurt Ethan. He'd never intended to, though, if he had thought that far ahead, he would have had to admit that that would be the end result no matter what. This was, after all, the Brian and Justin story, not the Justin and Ethan story.

Brian brought Justin back to the present with a smirk and a jaunty "Wanna suck me off in the shower?"

Justin smiled brightly. One of his million-watt smiles. Everything was like it was before Ethan and yet so different. Wonderfully different. As Justin followed Brian into the bathroom, he vowed that that would be his last before-after thought.


	16. Brian's Secret

After Brian and Justin walked into Deb's house, as was usually the case, Deb, Vic, Lindsay, Mel, and Emmett all swarmed around Justin, all hellos and hugs. This time, the hugs were tighter, and the hellos, warmer (since he'd recently come close to dying). This time, Ted even approached Justin (he usually just sat on the couch and nodded or waved). He couldn't quite manage a hug, but he patted Justin on the shoulder and said softly, "I'm glad you recovered."

Mikey was the only one who kept his distance. He hung back with Brian and tried to talk to him. He was trying to tell him about a rare first edition comic he'd managed to get on eBay, but Brian was especially distracted (from Mikey's point of view). He nodded and muttered "Oh" and "Yeah" periodically, but his eyes never left Justin, and his attention was actually quite focused. On Justin. Mikey grew more and more annoyed. When Justin laughed, Brian's eyes brightened, and when Justin smiled, Brian smiled, too, though softer, more muted smiles. After trying and failing to get Brian's attention for a solid five minutes, an exasperated Mikey asked, "Brian! Why are you acting so weird?"

Brian didn't even look at Mikey. He muttered, "What?"

Mikey repeated, "Why are you acting so weird?"

In annoyance, Brian retorted, "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Then he walked up to Justin and pulled him by the shirtsleeve toward him and headed to the back door. Mikey frowned. Brian was smiling, and his eyes were actually twinkling. Justin flashed Brian a million-watt smile and allowed himself to be led away (of course). Mikey narrowed his eyes, waited a couple of minutes, and then trailed behind them. He had to discover the source of Brian's strange behavior (Brian always showed some interest in Mikey's latest acquisition, though he mostly just mocked him, and mercilessly, and, most often, Brian pretended Justin didn't exist as soon as they stepped through Deb's door). Mikey needed to know what was going on, what had changed. Brian and Justin had left the back door open slightly, so Mikey could hear them talking, though he couldn't quite make out the words. Mikey soon realized why. Brian had Justin pushed up against the right porch wall. His hands were on Justin's face, his fingers caressing Justin's cheeks lightly, and he was alternately licking Justin's earlobe and whispering in his ear. Justin was flushed and smiling, so brightly. But then his face was suddenly serious. His mouth was open slightly, and his eyes, half-closed. He gasped, "Brian…"

Mikey's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw Brian slide down Justin's body. To his knees. Mikey had only ever seen Brian do such a thing once. That first night. He hadn't really seen much, and he'd swerved (he'd been driving the Jeep when it happened) to interrupt, to make it impossible for Brian to suck the kid off. Mikey had written it off as a drug-induced lapse. But now, Brian was, as far as Mikey could tell, completely sober. Mikey was horrified as he watched Brian unzip Justin's jeans, slide them and Justin's underwear down, and take Justin's very erect cock into his mouth, the whole thing in one go. Justin breathed, "Oh fuck…Brian…" as Brian started sucking his dick. Then Justin let his head fall back against the wall, and he moaned softly.

Mikey hated watching, but he couldn't look away, like it was a car crash or a train wreck. With horrified fascination, he looked on. Mikey's gut was twisted with jealousy and anger as Justin looked down at Brian, licked his lips, threaded his fingers through damp chestnut hair, fisting it, and growled, "I'm going to fuck your mouth, shove my huge cock down your throat, make you choke on my cum." Brian glanced up, and his eyes flashed. Mikey smiled. "Here it comes," he thought. "This is where Brian draws the line." He actually rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. But then Brian moaned low in his throat, his eyes drooping slightly. Justin closed his eyes for a moment, overcome with pleasure and desire. Then his eyes flew open, dark and narrowed, and Justin started thrusting into Brian's mouth, fisting Brian's hair even harder. So much so that it must have really hurt. Mikey was aghast. How could Brian allow this kid to treat him like that? That was the way _Brian_ treated tricks. But now, he was not only letting Justin treat him this way but also, judging by the sounds he was making, fucking enjoying it!

Mikey turned away. He couldn't stomach another second. Then Justin came, or so Mikey gathered from his sudden loud cry, "Ohhh!" Mikey was about to leave but then Brian was talking (and he could actually hear him this time). "I love you, Sunshine."

A happy laugh. Justin's. Then Justin replied, in a husky whisper, "I love you, too, Brian. So fucking much."

Mikey moaned softly and shook his head, "No…no, no, no…"

The world started spinning then and faded to black, as Mikey collapsed onto the floor. A couple of minutes later, Brian and Justin found him there, nearly tripping over him on the way back in. Brian pulled the man to his feet and threw Mikey's arm around his neck, dragging him into the living room and then laying him on the couch.

When Mikey opened his eyes once more, everyone was standing around him, concern on all their faces, even Brian's and Justin's. Mikey sat up quickly, fuming. He didn't need or want the twink's pity. Then he glared at Brian. He accused his best friend (or the alien that had invaded his body), "I saw you! I _heard_ you!"

Brian just blinked.

Mikey narrowed his eyes and hissed, "You said you love him!" As he said the last two words, he pointed at Justin (as if he needed to).

Brian ran his hand over his face, and Justin bit back a smile. Everyone else gasped and looked at Brian expectantly.

Deb, stunned, asked plainly, "You told Sunshine you love him?"

Brian sighed. Then he retorted, "I don't see what fucking business it is of yours."

Deb hit him in the back of the head and wagged her finger at him. "Don't take that tone with me, you little asshole!"

Ted observed, incredulously, "He didn't deny it."

Emmett exclaimed, "Oh Baby!" while also jumping a bit and clapping his hands. Justin looked down, but smiled brightly. Lindsay had a similar reaction (to Emmett's), crinkling her eyes and tilting her head as she breathed, "Oh Brian…I knew it!" Brian, however, had the opposite reaction (to Justin's); he frowned. Vic grinned, and Mel just stared, her eyes wide.


	17. A Confession

Mikey sulked all the way through dinner. Justin wasn't helping. He couldn't stop smiling. Brian was trying to play it cool, so he avoided looking at Justin, trying to focus on his food, though he wasn't very hungry. But every time he did sneak a glance at Justin, he couldn't help but chuckle. Justin was sitting up so straight in his chair, beaming proudly. Every time Mikey glowered at him, Justin's smile increased in wattage.

Out of nowhere (no one had been talking; most were still in shock), Deb philosophized, in a voice that shook, "Well, when someone you care about has a brush with death, your priorities shift, and things that were once murky become all too clear."

Vic rubbed her shoulder. Softly he said, "Sis."

Deb shrugged. "It's true."

Vic nodded slowly and looked back down at his plate.

Mikey unexpectedly smiled. That was it. After a contemptuous glance at Justin, Mikey declared, "So Brian doesn't love Justin after all."

Deb asked, "How do you figure?"

Mikey's voice rose at pace with his increasing excitement. He explained brightly, "Brian just feels bad. You know, because boy wonder almost died."

Justin slumped down a little in his chair, and his smile faded.

Brian sighed.

Emmett shook his head. "No." Then looking at Justin, he frowned and rubbed Justin's back. "Baby, don't listen to him. He's just jealous."

Mikey scoffed, "As if! I know Brian loves _me_."

Ted pointed out, "As a friend."

Mikey held his head high. "Love is love. But (he sent a scathing look Justin's way) _guilt_ is not!"

Lindsay nudged Brian's arm, urging him to say something. Deb did the exact opposite, slapping Mikey's arm. "It's about time you stopped speaking for Brian. You might be his best friend, but you're not a God-damned mind reader."

Mikey harrumphed, "Brian-Fucking-Kinney doesn't _do_ love! Everyone knows that."

Lindsay urged again, "Brian…say something."

Justin looked up at Brian nervously, expectantly. Brian smirked and drawled, "Something."

Mel shook her head. "See. Once an asshole always an asshole."

Brian sighed. "Cool your jets, Xena, Warrior Princess." After an uncomfortably long pause, he admitted, "It's not guilt."

He rolled his lips into his mouth and looked down, thinking. He'd already told Justin how he felt, and more than once. And Mikey had heard him say the words. He thought glumly, "In for a penny, in for a pound." So after another uncomfortably long pause, he continued, so softly no one was sure they'd heard him right, "I love the little twat."

Ted teased, "What was that, Brian? I couldn't quite hear you."

Justin was still nervous, but his eyes brightened a little. He couldn't even breathe. He was praying that Brian had actually said what Justin thought he'd said…and that he would repeat it.

Mikey was experiencing something similar. His eyes started to dim, and he was having trouble breathing. And he was praying, but for the opposite thing…that Brian had not actually said what Mikey thought he'd said…and if he had, that he would _not_ repeat it.

After sending Ted a look that would wilt flowers, Brian sighed and repeated, almost verbatim, what he'd said a moment before, but this time a little more loudly, "I love Justin."

Lindsay smiled brightly and patted Brian's hand. Emmett did the same, only it was Justin's hand he patted. Justin started beaming again. Mikey started glowering again. Deb and Vic chuckled. And Mel and Ted just stared at Brian incredulously.

Brian, seeing Justin's smile return (and its wattage), couldn't help but smile a little, too. He was fucked. So fucked. He was pretty sure that everyone, but Mikey (who was in serious denial, even now), had already guessed how he felt about Justin, but guessing wasn't knowing. And Brian had wanted to keep them all guessing. Even Justin. Especially Justin. Now…if things didn't work out, he couldn't pretend he didn't care, that he wasn't hurt. Technically, he still could, but no one would believe it. Then again, maybe they wouldn't have anyway.

After learning the truth, that Justin had broken the rules for two months, Brian had wanted to pull away and shut down, and for a while he had. He'd wanted to take it all back. The I love you. The promise to stop tricking. Brian might pretend that he knew nothing about feelings, but…that wasn't quite true. For example, he knew without a shadow of a doubt what had driven Justin to betray him. Justin had felt unloved and like he wasn't enough for Brian…like he'd never be enough for Brian. Brian had spent a year pretending not to know that Justin felt this way, telling himself that he showed Justin how he felt, that he loved him, that no one pleased him the way Justin did, every time they touched. That Justin didn't need the words…that he didn't need to be the only one Brian fucked. But he'd seen the flash of pain in Justin's eyes (quickly hidden, but always there) every time Justin saw him with someone else…every time his I love yous were met with silence. Brian had known, with increasing certainty as time passed, that one day Brian's touch, Brian's steadfast following of the rules, wouldn't be enough. He had known and done nothing.

So…he wasn't exactly surprised to discover that there had been someone else. What had surprised him was that Justin had broken it off. That Justin had decided on his own to simply take what Brian offered (with the added rule of not tricking at home). That decision…the overwhelming guilt Justin clearly felt, which, in fact, had almost killed him…and Justin's dramatic reaction to his pulling away after Justin had recovered…all these things told Brian that Justin truly loved him. That though it caused him inconceivable pain, taking Brian as he was, was preferable to being with someone else…someone who undoubtedly could say the words Justin so longed to hear…who undoubtedly could be faithful. So Brian had forgiven him and had taken nothing back. This…slightly unsettling revelation was simply the next step, and a necessary one. Brian had taken Justin for granted once, and he'd nearly lost him, first to the other guy and then to pneumonia. He wouldn't do it again. He couldn't.

Brian placed his hand on Justin's leg (under the table). Justin quickly slipped his underneath Brian's. Brian threaded their fingers together. Looking over at Justin's smiling face, feeling Justin's hand in his, Brian decided that this wasn't so bad. As long as Justin was by his side, he could deal with everything else.


	18. A Little Knowledge Is a Dangerous Thing

Brian and Justin were at the diner. Brian was sitting at a table with Auntie Em, Mikey, and Eeyore, and Justin was working. Sort of. He was refilling Brian's coffee slowly, one drip at a time, or nearly so. He wanted avoid the pissy bunch three booths down. They'd already demanded dinner food at breakfast, which had forced Justin to sweet talk Doug, the cook. Then, the lead jerk had declared that his burger wasn't rare enough and that his fries weren't crisp enough, though Doug had made them special, so Justin couldn't see how that was possible. More sweet talking required. Once Justin had procured a burger-fries combo of lead jerk's liking, one of his minions had said his coke was watery. He wanted one without ice. Then they all did. They'd been trying to flag Justin down for five minutes (they could have landed a plane), but he was trying to pretend they didn't exist. They could go to the register for their check. Justin looked over at Doug. He was smiling at Justin. Justin sighed. Heavily. Just fucking great. Now he'd have to ignore suggestive glances, smirks, and winks all day.

Brian looked up at Justin when his cup was halfway full. He bit his lip and smiled. "You need help there, Sunshine?"

Justin stifled a giggle. "Nope. Doing just fine, thanks."

Mikey piped up suddenly, smiling so hard, Justin half-expected his face to split in two, revealing an ectoplasm-covered alien, "Brian, tell everyone about the last white party you went to!" Mikey looked back at Emmett and Ted. "People queued up, actually stood in line!" Turning back to Brian, he asked, "How long was it again? Twenty people?"

Justin egged him on. "Yes, Brian, do tell!"

Brian smiled up at Justin, but then shrugged and looked down, muttering, "I don't really remember."

Emmett placed a hand on his chest, right over his heart. "As I live and breathe. I never thought I'd see the day Brian Kinney was unwilling to brag about his legendary conquests."

Justin smiled and leaned down, kissing Brian's cheek. Brian smiled again, but didn't look up. As Justin straightened, he accidentally glanced back at the plane landers and caught the lead jerk's eye. He sighed. He finished filling Brian's cup and walked over to their table.

The bell jangled, signaling someone's entry. Brian looked up as a guy with medium-length curly brown hair walked in. He had dark, intense eyes and a goti. Brian grimaced. A hipster. Justin, who was now standing at the plane landers' table, holding a plate in one hand and the pot of coffee in the other, looked up, too. The hipster started walking toward the back of the diner. Justin's eyes grew wide. Emmett noticed and glanced over. He gasped. Observing Emmett, Brian quirked an eyebrow. Then he turned. Justin was staring at the hipster. In fact, he was so distracted that, when the hipster was a foot away, he accidentally tipped the lead jerk's plate downward, sending the uneaten half of his burger and a handful of fries into his lap. The lead jerk jumped up and shouted, "Fucking asshole!" Brian moved to intercede, but not quickly enough. The lead jerk he pushed Justin. The push jostled Justin so much that scalding coffee spilled out and all over his hand, and he dropped the plate, which broke into several pieces and covered the floor with ceramic dust.

Brian made it over to Justin, but the hipster had beaten him to it. He'd taken the pot of coffee and set it on the counter and was now cradling Justin's burnt hand. Justin wasn't looking at the hipster anymore, but at his hand. Brian heard Justin whisper, "You shouldn't have come here."

So this hairy, filthy beatnik was the guy. The guy Justin had broken the rules for. And not just once, but for two months.

Seeing Brian a few inches away and staring at him and Ethan, Justin backed away. He rushed behind the counter to a little sink. He turned the cold water on and thrust his hand under it, closing his eyes and praying Brian hadn't heard what he'd said, hadn't put two and two together. A moment later, Brian was beside him pulling his hand away. "Don't use ice cold water. That'll make it worse. Has to be lukewarm."

Justin looked up at Brian, amazed, as Brian adjusted the temperature and then gently took his hand, pulling it back under the stream.

Brian and Justin stood there by the sink for a couple of minutes. During that two minutes, Kiki apologized frantically and even comped the plane landers' meal. The lead jerk was still huffing and puffing, but he left. Brian and Justin were completely unaware of any of that. The silence between them stretched and curled, muffling everything but their own breathing, their own heart beats.

Brian's voice was husky, rough. "Better?"

Truth be told, Justin couldn't tell. Brian's touch, at his wrist and waist, caused his skin to burn. Everywhere. Still Justin managed to smile. "Yeah."

Brian turned to leave.

Justin opened his mouth to speak, hesitating before finally stammering, "Whe-where are you going?"

Brian tried to laugh. "Uh…work."

Justin was suddenly cold, and his throat dry. "Oh…" He swallowed and licked his lips. "No kiss goodbye?"

Brian stood his ground.

_You said you forgave me_.

_That doesn't mean I trust you_.

Justin implored Brian: _Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me_.

Brian swallowed hard and then stepped closer, giving Justin a quick peck on the lips. But just as he started to pull away, Justin grabbed him by the waist, drawing him in for a lingering kiss. He pushed his tongue into Brian's mouth and then moved one hand from Brian's waist to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Justin kissed Brian hesitantly, at first, but when Brian finally responded, Justin slid both hands upward, threading his fingers into Brian's hair and pushing his tongue deeper. And deeper. Slowly exploring and then claiming frantically, _mine, mine, mine_.

When Justin finally pulled away, in a half-pant, half-whisper, his eyelids heavy, he said, "I love you, Brian."

Brian looked down, cleared his throat, and replied, so softly Justin could barely hear him, "Me, too." A few seconds later, Brian was out the door.

Justin watched him leave, conscious of nothing but Brian's retreating form and the ache it caused in his chest.

Ethan brought Justin out of his head with a hiss. "That was kind of cruel."

Justin snapped his head toward the sound of his voice. "What? Kissing my boyfriend? Is that a fucking crime now?" But he wasn't really angry at Ethan. Ethan shouldn't have come, but how could he have known Brian would be there? Justin was mostly angry at himself. For responding to Ethan's flattery and romanticism in the first place and for gaping at him that morning. If he'd just acted cool, natural, Brian would never have known who Ethan was. But he had to be firm, even mean. Otherwise Ethan wouldn't get it. "You shouldn't have come here."

"It's still a free country, isn't it? And the Liberty Diner is a public place."

Justin sighed.

Michael had been watching the scene unfold with increasing interest from the moment Brian had stood up. Emmett looked at Justin and that guy, the violinist, uneasily and then back at Michael. He tried to get his attention. Feigning excitement, he said, "So last night, I went home with a guy, this big burly top. But as soon as we get to his place, he calls me daddy and starts begging me to fuck him. Well I…Michael are you hearing this? A big burly top was begging me to fuck him…"

But Michael was still watching Justin, as though entranced.

Ted nudged Emmett's arm. "So what did you do?" But Emmett wasn't paying attention. He was watching Michael watch Justin and the violinist. He sighed. He really wished that they would lower their voices.

"I love you, Justin. What we shared was…amazing. We were so connected. I know you felt it, too. I could make you happy if you let me…"

Michael laughed. It served Justin right to have fucked this guy once and earned himself a lovesick stalker.

Justin crossed his arms. "I'm done with you, Ethan. Get over it."

Names.

Michael stopped breathing.

"Can I at least call you? We could go out for coffee. Maybe we could be friends."

"Lose my number. Seriously. Never call me again."

Numbers.

Michael's eyes widened. Then he laughed, jumped up, and ran out of the diner. He was so excited that he completely forgot about paying his portion of the bill.

Emmett hung his head and sighed. This couldn't be good.

Ted nudged Emmett's hand harder. "Are you ever gonna tell me whether or not you fucked that guy?"

"Huh?"

TBC…


	19. A Crescenty Moon, Laundry, & Blue Shorts

Chapter 19: A Crescenty Moon, Laundry, and Little Blue Shorts

Justin was uneasy. Emmett had pulled him aside before leaving with Ted, whispering into his ear, "Michael overheard you and that violinist." Justin would have questioned him, but Emmett sort of covertly gestured toward Ted, so Justin nodded and fell back. Then they left.

But really, Justin didn't have to ask Emmett anything. Michael had undoubtedly heard Justin call Ethan by his name…had undoubtedly heard Ethan mention calling Justin. And probably ran right over to tell Brian.

So now…as evening became night, Justin was doing the laundry. He often did that when he was feeling uneasy. He had a routine. He'd take his and Brian's dirty clothes to the laundromat a few streets away. He'd sweep the floor and wash the dishes (while the clothes were in the washer). He'd switch the clothes. He'd dust and/or pull out the ladder and wash the windows, sometimes both, depending on how wound up he was, while the clothes dried. He'd fold and hang up clothes and then make dinner. The healthier, the better. Part of the draw was that he was washing Brian's clothes (as well as his own) and cleaning the space they shared. But mostly, Justin just liked making things clean…almost new again. A therapist would probably tell Justin that this compulsion began with Brian's whoring around and continued with Justin's. That it wasn't the clothes or the bedding or the loft he was trying to purge of filth, but their relationship. And he (or she) would have been right. Justin had never taken so many showers in his life as he had since starting with Ethan. This habit hadn't stopped when Justin had ended their affair, either. Sometimes he wondered if he'd ever feel clean again. Definitely not while Ethan was still very much a part of their lives.

Justin had had the foresight to go shopping after class. And now he was glad he had. As he had feared, Brian was still at work. Brian hadn't stayed this late at work in weeks. And since Justin knew Brian wasn't currently attempting to snag new clients, it had to be about this morning. Hell, even if Brian were trying to land a big client, 8:1, he would work at the loft. No his lateness had to be about Ethan. And Michael.

So now, Justin was on the ladder, washing the lower right panel of one of the windows, but doing so mechanically. What he was really doing was looking at the sky. The moon had risen. It was crescent shaped and hazy. Right at the horizon, it was suffused with pink and purple. It kind of looked like the Cheshire Cat's enigmatic smile.

That's when Brian walked in. He slid the door shut with a slam, causing Justin to jump slightly. Justin immediately started down the ladder.

"Whatcha doing?"

Justin approached Brian, windex-soaked paper towels still in hand, and kissed him gently on the lips. Then he pulled back, maybe half an inch, and replied, his voice a purr, "What's it look like?"

Brian swallowed hard. He could feel the warm puffs of Justin's breath on his lips. He looked down and then walked around Justin, setting his briefcase on the floor next to the couch. When he was a 'safe' distance away, he answered, "Looks like you're doing what I pay the cleaning woman to do."

Justin had pivoted slowly as Brian turned around, regarding him solemnly. He shrugged. "So stop. I do most of the cleaning anyway."

Brian pulled the knot of his tie loose and shrugged off his suit coat. "You work and go to school. I don't expect you to do the cleaning, too."

"I like cleaning. Oh…that reminds me. I have to get the clothes. They should be dry by now." Justin tossed the paper towels in the trash bin and slipped on his flip flops. They were sea green.

Brian had been making a concerted effort not to look at Justin, but one glance down at his body and he couldn't stop staring. Justin was wearing a sea green sweatshirt (to match the flip flops) and light blue shorts. Brian huffed a laugh. "What the fuck are you wearing?"

Justin smiled. "Clothes…"

Brian just blinked.

"This is what normal people wear to do laundry."

For the first time since leaving the diner, Brian relaxed. A little. "Pastels?" He looked horrified. "I guess it's a good thing I use a laundry service. That begs the question, why the fuck are you doing laundry when we have a service?"

"I like doing laundry. Besides … you've been complaining for weeks about the soap they use. Too fucking flowery, you said. And they machine dry everything that isn't dry cleaned. I hang a lot of things up rather than machine drying them. Prevents extra wear and shrinkage."

Brian giggled. "Shrinkage."

Justin smiled brightly. He chastised Brian, "You're an infant," but he couldn't be happier. Brian was finally starting to act normal.

Brian shrugged.

Justin turned to leave, but he had barely gotten his hand on the handle when Brian commented, "The color's atrocious, but those shorts frame your ass just right."

Then Brian was behind Justin, his hands squeezing the aforementioned perfectly framed ass. Justin closed his eyes and muttered, "Fuck. Brian." He leaned his forehead against the cool metal door as Brian slid Justin's little shorts off. Justin groaned when Brian kneeled and spread his cheeks. And he moaned, and loudly, when Brian drew his tongue over his entrance. Justin unconsciously pushed his ass toward Brian. He just needed more. More pressure against his hole. More warm wetness. Penetration. Lots and lots of that. First with Brian's darting poking tongue…and then with his nine-inch cock. Justin's grew impossibly harder at the thought.

Brian licked a stripe from the top of Justin's ass down to his hole and swirled his tongue around it for a few seconds. He had just started pushing his tongue inside when a phone rang. Justin's cell. Brian paused, but Justin pushed back a little and cried, "You stop and I'll fucking kill you."

Brian did remove his tongue (and chuckle), causing Justin to whimper, but, in short order, he replaced it with his sheathed and lubed cock, eliciting a half-whispered, half-moaned, "Fuck yeah" from Justin. Justin's cell rang four times before going to voice mail and then another four times, but eventually fell silent. However, after the first thrust, neither could hear its persistent ringing, not over Brian's panting, Justin's moaning, and the soft rush of their blood flowing.

Brian fucked Justin slow, his cock thrumming against Justin's prostate with each thrust, but that wasn't the best part for Justin. Not even close. The best part was that Brian had his arms slung across Justin's chest (underneath Justin's sweatshirt) and that he was alternately licking and sucking on Justin's ear and thrusting his tongue into Justin's mouth. When Brian was close, he buried his face in Justin's neck, and when he came, he bit it, right at the pulse point, and hard, even as he slipped a hand to Justin's cock and stroked it. Twice was all it took. Justin had never felt more owned in all his life and it was the biggest turn on.

A few minutes later, Justin was happily walking down the street (headed to the laundromat), having completely forgotten about the phone calls. Unfortunately, Brian hadn't. He walked around the living room twice, circling the table, which held Justin's cell phone, before finally sighing and grabbing it. Then after another moment's pause and another sigh, he navigated to the message menu and into Justin's voicemail. When prompted for the security code, Brian didn't hesitate. He immediately punched in the numbers corresponding to his birthday. When asked to press one if he wanted to listen to Justin's messages, Brian was so thrown by how sweet the gesture was (the security code) that he almost hit end. Almost. Instead, he pressed one.


	20. Phones Suck

Earlier that day, Mikey had burst into Brian's office, exclaiming, "Brian! Brian! You have to dump the twink!"

Not even looking at Mikey, Brian replied coolly, "Do I now?"

Mikey nodded frantically (though Brian couldn't see it). Then he said, "Yes! Brian … I hate to tell you this … but Justin's cheating on you!"

Brian finally glanced up from the report he had been reading. He didn't say a word. He schooled his features so that Mikey wouldn't see the panic that shot through him on the word 'cheating.' Then he tossed the report onto his desk, crossed his arms, and waited. He knew he wouldn't need to wait long. And he didn't. Mikey barreled on, "That kid from the diner…the one who helped Justin when he burned his hand…well he talked to Justin after you left."

Brian scoffed at that (the idea that that filthy hipster had helped. Cradling Justin's hand had hardly stopped it from burning. No Brian'd had to take care of Justin's hand himself).

Mikey paused, waiting for a response, well more of one. Realizing it was not forthcoming, he continued, "Justin fucked that guy, and … and they exchanged both names AND numbers. They probably fucked more than once, too. That kid, Ethan, I think his name is, Ethan even told Justin that he loved him!"

Brian sighed. So the little fucker's name was Ethan. Brian stood and began ushering Mikey out. "I thank you for your concern, but I need to get back to work."

Mikey's eyes widened. "Brian! Didn't you hear me? Justin broke the rules! At least two of them, probably more. That little fucker probably kissed him, no, not probably, definitely."

"Bye, Mikey." Brian shoved his best friend out the door with more force than he meant to and slammed it shut. Then he threw himself back against it. Thoughts that made Brian nauseous surfaced then (thoughts Brian had just managed to put at bay when Mikey walked in): That filthy hairy thing was the guy Justin had fucked more than once…the guy Justin had let fuck him…the guy Justin had kissed…the guy Justin'd been in a relationship with for two months…the guy who'd been able to give Justin what Brian had not…I love yous and sweet gestures. Like a mantra, Brian repeated, for the twentieth time, this time aloud, "But it's over now."

Wasn't it?

That was the foremost question in Brian's mind all day. And the one that came to mind when the phone rang the first time…and the question that kept repeating as they'd fucked and resounded in his head even now.

As it turned out, the person who'd called, no doubt this Ethan, only left one message: "Baby, it's me. Fuck. I did it again. I'm sorry. I'm also sorry for coming to the diner. I shouldn't have. I just needed to see you. I know you're pissed at me, and you told me not to call, but could we meet? I miss you. And…I love you. So mu—."

Brian was relieved that the beatnik'd been cut off. He wasn't sure how much more of that he could take.

A million questions swirled in Brian's head. Not least of which was how could Justin be with someone who called him baby? Seriously. Pet names made Brian's dick soft. Well…except for Sunshine. But Brian hadn't coined that pet name. Somehow that made it less offensive. Some little voice in the back of Brian's head countered that everything was less Stepford fag when Brian did it…that it wasn't exactly the baby, though baby was pretty bad. It was that someone else was doing it, calling Justin by a pet name, someone who also said I love you at the drop of a hat (apparently…two months was nothing) and couldn't bring himself to stay away, not even when asked, no ordered, to.

Fucking baby.

Fucking I miss you.

Fucking I love you.

Those words, particularly the latter three, directed at Justin, coming from someone who wasn't Brian…made Brian ill. Stupid as it sounded, or was, since Brian had first said them…they'd taken on new meaning. Brian knew he was fucking insane … but … they'd stopped being stupid when Brian had first uttered them, and when Brian had learned that some other guy had beaten him to it, Brian had felt diminished by that…had felt that the words, as spoken by him, were diminished. Brian sighed. The feeling of loving Justin…Brian hadn't articulated it until recently for the simple reason that he had wanted to prevent that very thing. He had not wanted that feeling in any way sullied. But when he'd finally said the words, he'd felt … as though saying them only made the feeling … fuck … more special or some shit. Until the dreaded first phone call and Justin's subsequent admission. Brian was trying not to let the past … this guy … fuck everything up … but

The phone brought Brian out of his head, asking him (for the third time) whether he wanted to delete the message, save it, or mark it as new. He chose the latter.

The biggest question, the question Brian didn't even want to acknowledge, the question he hadn't been able to ignore since that morning was, was Justin still seeing the guy?

Justin had said he'd broken it off…and had been so racked with guilt that he'd made himself ill (and so ill, he could have died).

No.

No.

Justin couldn't still be seeing him.

No.

Definitely not.

Brian extended his arm, quickly dropped the phone onto the coffee table, and pulled his arm back. Like the phone was some monstrous thing.

Definitely not.

So … this guy couldn't take a hint. Yeah.

Brian stood and wandered over to the drink cart. He poured himself a scotch, downed it in two gulps, set the glass down, and then walked back over to the table. He picked up Justin's phone, stared at it for a few seconds, and then … threw it against a wall. So hard that it shattered into a million pieces.

That's when Justin returned, laundry basket in hand. Brian walked over to Justin, took the basket from him, and, as he set it down on the coffee table, said, "You're gonna need a new phone."

Justin followed Brian into the living room, set his keys down, and removed his flip flops. He had heard Brian, but didn't understand. "What?"

Brian inclined his head toward a pile of plastic and metal on the floor.

"Oh my God! What happened?"

Brian shrugged. "It fell…"

It was half-statement, half-question.

Justin just stared at Brian for a moment. He didn't believe Brian, not for a second. But then, Justin knew Brian didn't expect him to. Justin shook his head and then buried his face in his hands. When he finally spoke, his voice was muffled and frustrated. "You know I just swept the entire loft, right?"

Brian had smashed Justin's phone, and all Justin seemed to care about was the mess. Brian's entire body had been tight most of the day, even with 'shrinkage,' an orgasm, and a drink, but now, after Justin's response, he was finally at ease. Completely at ease. He grinned. "It's a good thing I employ a cleaning woman, then, isn't it?"

Justin laughed, but his laugh ended with a sigh.

Brian pulled Justin to him by the waist and then whispered into his ear. "I'll get you a new phone. This time, be more selective in who you give your number to, okay?"

Justin swallowed hard. "Okay."

Brian was pretty sure 'it' was over, but if it wasn't, at least now, Brian would have more clear proof … Ian … Ethel … who-the-fuck-ever … couldn't call again if Justin didn't give him his new number … and he wouldn't if 'it' was really over. Right?

TBC…


End file.
